The Other Side of the Palm Tree
by The Indigo Crown
Summary: Ron/Monty : Ron finds that affection come from the oddest places.
1. Prolog

If you asked me if I had any feelings towards the boy, I would have told you no, and been thinking yes

If you asked me if I had any feelings towards the boy, I would have told you no, and been thinking yes.

If I were put in a room with only the boy and myself I would possibly jump him.

No, I most definitely would.

But due to the fact the boy is who he is, I've retained myself from jumping Mr. Stoppable. I've tried my hardest not to come anywhere near him, or anything that had to do with him.

Did I mention that he's best friends with the Kim Possible?

Because of this, it's just a tad but hard to not see or hear or learn anything about him.

It's that joyous?

Now some of you, yes I'm breaking the fourth wall, may be wondering how I'm avoiding Mr. Stoppable if I'm a super villain.

Well, I'll tell you something that is not so much a secret anymore but a fact. You see; about- lets see here how long ago was it- five years ago I was sent to a very large, very secure rehabilitation center in South East Asia. It was run by some of the top minds in the world, many of which I had known years and year before I might add. I was kept in closed quarters and as time went on, becoming more human then I had been in years. Tests were taken, as well as some painful experiments, until the hair on my body receded to a more natural length, and my mythical monkey powers were locked away to the depth of my mind and body. I could use my powers to this day, but if I do so, I tend to go though tremendous amount of physical and metal pain that can last for weeks on end.

"How cheesy this sounds," you may be saying, "Does he really want us to go along with this brief little story he may have made up?" Do I want you to go along with it? Do you think I care if you do?

Dearest reader, I am not a nice man now, I'm a bit of a sadist, and I still am a bit obsessed with monkeys, just not to the point when I want to be one.

Do I want to rule the world? No, but a nice piece of land would be splendid.

Would I like to have Ron Stoppable underneath me, moaning and panting, begging for more?

Very very much.

Will that happen? Hell if I know. If I know one thing, it's not to expect destiny to go your way. So all I can do now is sit back, read a book in front of a nice fire, and think not so clean thought about a blonde.

What do you say to that?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One : Frank Loyed Who

Chapter One : Frank Loyed Who?

Ron Stoppable was never one to say he was an artist. Sure, he could draw a nice box house, or a smiling stick figure, maybe even a circle cat. But anything that he drew never went past the plain old kindergarten drawing, and for Ron, that was just fine.

But even though he was lacking in the skills, he still wouldn't mind looking at art on occasion, even if he didn't understand what the work of art meant, or why anyone would spend millions of dollars on them.

Now, was one of those times.

:.:.:.:

Kim Possible had bee asked to keep a lookout for any possible thief at a private collection of art owned by Lord Henry Benico. It was a small viewing, so Kim didn't have to worry about getting lost in the crowd, but that only meant that the artwork was high in value. Still, the two were happy to be here, knowing that they were two in the handful of people that ever got to see any of these works up close.

It is here we find Ron looking with interest at an original blue print of one of Frank Loyed Wright many spectacular houses that we begin.

.:.:.:.:.

"Ah, Mr. Stoppable is it?" a thickly accented voice came from behind Ron. Ron jumped slightly at the greeting, not expecting anyone other then Kim to talk to him while he was here. After all, he was the sidekick, and even though he was with Kim, many chose to ignore him for not being the hero.

The voice, Ron found out, belonged to a tall, powerful looking man that seemed to tower over Ron when he stood next to the blonde. The man wore a black suit, and from what Ron could tell that was all he was wearing, black. Black shoes, black shirt, black everything. The only thing that wasn't black was the mans pale skin, and his brown eyes.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" he asked Ron as he gestured at the blue print. Ron nodded slightly, wishing he wasn't so short, he didn't like being towered over all that much. "Very few originals are privately owned," the man continued, "And few still have been seen by the public," the man nodded sadly. "It's a shame he wasn't a Brit," the man chuckled. Ron laughed nervously at the statement and eyed the room, looking for routes of escape if necessary. The man thankfully noticed Ron discomfit and exclaimed, "Dear me I can't believe I forgot! Henry Benico, owner of all these fine works," Mr. Benico shook Ron's hand rapidly. "I'm so sorry for not introducing myself earlier, but my mind is all over the place at the moment," the older man chuckled again.

"You always were one to leave your mind scattered during occasions Henry," a voice came from behind the two.

"Monty!" Mr. Benico exclaimed, and quickly walked over to another man. Ron could not see the other man for Mr.Benico and his height was blocking him from view, and shook the other mans hand with much enthusiasm. "I thought you weren't going to show!" Benico said happily, "Shows what I think doesn't it?

"Indeed," the other man replied, now stepping out of Benicos shadow.

It was then that Ron forgot how to talk.

:.:.:.:.:.:

For a moment I thought I was seeing things. I thought that somehow I'd had more then one glass of red wine, and in a drunken haze I was seeing something I really did wanted to see, yet didn't.

But that moment only lasted about a second, and thankfully I stayed more or less in tack.

The younger man across from me, well, I couldn't say the same.

He looked like he wanted to bolt from the spot. Henry of course was totally oblivious to how the young man felt, perhaps from all the wine, and dragged us both over to the small secluded courtyard nearby. (The both of us protesting the whole way.)

A few moments later Henry went back inside to grab us some wine, leaving the two of us alone. I also most groaned in frustration when the man started fidgeting in his seat. My eyes racked his body for a second before locking with his.

And then he started to make a fuss.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:

He was staring at me.

Seconds ago his dark gray eyes were giving me a once over, and for some reason that made me trembled with something other then fear.

Now he was staring at me, a smirk on his lip, like he knew something I didn't. And that, pissed me off to no end.

"Look here Monkey Fist!" I yelled, jumping up from my seat. "I don't know what the hell you're planning," I growled, my pointer figure pointing at his head. "But you can be su- what the hell do you think you're doing?!" I yelped, trying to jump back. He, had grabbed my wrist, and was now looking at me, his eyes glazed over.

"What was that Ronald?" I shivered at he sound of his voice.

"I-I said, w-what the hell do you think you're doing?" My voice was horse and almost a whisper. He took a step forward. My own feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. He took another step forward, now inches from my quaking body.

"This," he growled, moving even closer.

"Wha-" His lips cut me off. They were warm and inviting, and I couldn't help but press my lips ageist his. He groaned when I did this, and drew me closer. My body felt like it was on fire, and I didn't want it to stop. He nipped at my lip, asking for entrance that I gladly gave him. I moaned when his tongue entered me mouth and wrapped around my own.

I didn't want it to stop.

All to soon he broke the kiss, his face slightly flushed and his hair tussled. Reality choose this moment to come crashing down full force.

He noticed the panic in my eyes seconds after it had happened, but he was two slow. I bolted out of the courtyard, almost bumping into Henry on the way out.

I hurriedly asked Kim if we could leave, and she didn't even question me, and we left with a single goodbye, leaving the man known as Montgomery Fisk standing alone, his hair ruffled and his hand still outstretched as if frozen in time.

:.:.:.:.:

MAN. THIS SHIT IS OLD D:

I had written if up earlier this year, but stopped and never got back to it.

There originally was more, but I'll only post it if there's interest. R&R!


End file.
